Better to be taciturn
Than babble through a tacky turn
And fail to hear enough to learn
In common conversation

Others may proclaim you shy
Or timid, mousy, terrified
Resist the urge to justify
Your ramble regulation

It doesn’t make you weak or mute
To take a minute to compute
A thought before you contribute
May optimise your speaking

Pause won’t hurt your cause unless
Your words are just a game of chess
To press, suppress, or to impress
Correcting or critiquing

Do you desire a partnership?
A sharing, caring, airing?

Or more of a dictator-grip?
A snaring, scaring, blaring?

Maybe you are silence-scared
Uncomfortable with empty air
And feel it is your job to bare
The sound continuation

Worry not my helpful friend
Your heavy duty at an end
More useful with an ear to lend
       Look kind toward the taciturn
       You may yet find a lot to learn
With still consideration

It was the pre-weeks of winter
Our connection was growing thinner
Leaves fell, and I began to shiver
Then, I knew my heart would need a blister.

Our time went by like a breeze
I assumed we had a tight lease
And I was mad at you for being a tease
Weren't we supposed to go for drinks?

Some doors are best left closed, I guess
But that notion keeps my anxiety worse
Like playing a grandmaster in chess
Oh, emotions and you pretty ugly mess.

Love's gone, and regret pays the rent
Talk about an ending that's nonchalant.

You are as
The silver moonlight
Which with its grace
Dances on the surface of this lake.
You, who penetrates my depths
And ripples into my being
Causing waves to quake.
I will be your shelter,
In my open arms
I will be your rest.
I will be as the caves of old,
Within me you may find peace
From the raging tempest of the world.
You may shutter your eyes and dream,
For the fire will remain
Even if to fuel it, I must burn.

is my wish what i really want?
are your kisses really that soft or are my memories unreliable
all this time i was unviable but now the tides changed
if the overcast can fade then so can the return of the grey
my impressionable mind molded by stoic time
the inescapable vines consume my innate drive

Blood from a stone;
Vulcan, erupt.
In his Ares heart,
Of the Zeno soul.
The battle drags on
For a cause, I do not know.

If the soul is dyed by thoughts, I will rest in my reason.

By following my just nature, I will let my desire find its termination.

For I am made of the stars. I will let my spirit shine.

I am a rising star, not a falling one. I am divine.

Nothing outside changes the value of my shining nature.

Despite criticism or praise, nothing shall perturb me.

My loveliness terminates in itself. My beauty evolves with the seasons.

I will love my nature. I will rest in my reason.

My flesh desires sugar, but sugar rots the soul.

To nurture the character of my mind, I’ll feast on the fruits of wisdom.

I’ll feed my soul thoughts ripe in virtue and I’ll let my spirit shine.

For tranquility is nothing but a good ordering of the mind.

I will not be troubled in any season.

When my flesh desires treason, I will rest in my reason.

Good with, good without;
If not good with do without.


You be good with you

The wick is fading, and I have no matches left
In this dark abyss where I sit depressed
My valiant heart has become a perch for crows
Smile shaped in stone
Each embrace stiff and cold from my marbled soul
My arms depict a grasping hand
Reaching for a world these etched eyes will never know
Trapped in the heart of a withered artist
His mad dealings mold and make me
A victim of his musings
Crafted in a candlelit madness
Delicate delusions and vague allusions
To courage in the many veiled faces of death
Carved and set at the base of the steps
Statuesque

What can I say? Another one dead and gone away.
Lost to ignorance, or
Possibly blind to addictions hooked grip.
One day your dangling a toe
Just over the edge. The next,
Your staring up wondering
How you lost your footing. I could say he’s a ******, but
Lord knows the elixirs I have invented
To dispel the dark heart of my depression.

Though I stand stoic, life has taught me
To never shame a smile. The sun rises for the living, and
Dead men fall short of tomorrow.
The amorphous soul slips through the seams
Of hands grasping to hold. So, when death discards its cloak and
Swirls its specters all around me
I’ll raise up life like a guiding lantern
And
Step through existence with my convictions.